


It was the curse in his blood

by Leu (Karaii)



Series: Naruto rarepair generator [12]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Lesbian Mikoto, Mind Control, Uchiha Massacre
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:07:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26931865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karaii/pseuds/Leu
Summary: “Mikoto,” he said weakly. “Don’t–-don’t ask this of me.”Her eyes were mesmerizing.“Don’t you love me, Fugaku?”
Relationships: Uchiha Fugaku/Uchiha Mikoto, Uchiha Mikoto/Uzumaki Kushina
Series: Naruto rarepair generator [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1372372
Comments: 9
Kudos: 34





	It was the curse in his blood

**Author's Note:**

> For the pairing prompt "Mikoto/Fugaku". Because I'm me, I twisted it and made it wretched :)

“I will never, ever love you,” Mikoto said. “Do you understand?”

“I do,” Fugaku said. He looked very formal in his freshly pressed uniform, head bowed low, almost to the ground. “But even still, I would have you as my wife, if you would permit me the honour.”

“As long as you know what you’re getting into.” Mikoto inhaled a shaky breath. “When will the wedding be?”

“The day you turn eighteen is the latest I could push it,” Fugaku said, daring to lift his face. “My mother would not allow any further.”

“I understand,” Mikoto said, and her eyes were cold, and dead, and lifeless. “Until then, I want nothing to do with you.”

“Very well,” Fugaku said, and very carefully did not cry.

–

She was a raven among crows, Fugaku thought. Her memory for grudges was eternal.

He remembered the first time he’d kissed her. He had been five years old and his mother had just announced his engagement to the whole Clan, and he had lowered his face down into her crib and kissed her forehead, knowing in his small, fragile heart that he was meant to be hers, that this was the only person he would ever love. Her eyes had been black, then, but just as vacant of love.

The next time he had kissed her he was already a genin, and her eyes had turned bright red, and she had screamed, and bit and hit and kicked him, until he had finally backed off, confused. Why did she hate him? Was she not born to love him?

No, he discovered. No one was born to love another. Love was a choice, and she had chosen to hate him, instead.

–

“Do you hate me?” Mikoto said, conversationally. “Because I cannot love you?”

“No,” Fugaku said. He did not say, _I have never been loved by anyone_ , because it was too pathetic, even for him. “I understand why you do not. I do not begrudge you for it.”

“Do you really?” she said. “Understand?”

Fugaku stared at his hands, the hands that had snapped the necks of a hundred soldiers, flashed through a thousand jutsu, thrown a hundred thousand kunai. Hands that could not force anyone to love him, no matter how much he wished it. “I don’t think I am a man that can be loved,” he said.

“It’s not always about you,” Mikoto said. “Men are always the same. Self-centered, and stupid.”

Fugaku looked up, and met her eyes. They were red, pinwheeling slowly.

“Do you understand why I cannot love you?” she said.

“I will never hate you,” he said, instead, “even if you can never love me.”

“Fugaku,” she said pityingly. “I don’t like men.”

–

Fugaku was a fool, not an idiot. Even he could see how much Mikoto loved the Whirpool girl, container of the Nine Tailed monster.

The sound of their shared laughter haunted him, the smiles Mikoto gifted him solely when she spoke about Uzumaki Kushina. Of the genuine excitement in her voice when she spoke about her, of the latest seal she had created, of the crazy new stunt she had pulled.

But Fugaku could never hate her. It was the curse of his blood, to love deeply, and hurt just as much to know he could spill it all, and she would never know, or care.

–

“How dare you let your wife exhibit such shamelessness in public!” Fugaku’s mother raged. “Cavorting with that Nine Tailed monster! Contain her behaviour, immediately!”

“No,” Fugaku said. “It is to the Clan’s benefit that she befriend the jinchuuriki, for then will we not be in possession of the power of the beast?”

“Well,” his mother said, stiffly. “When you put it like that.”

“Love is the greatest source of loyalty,” Fugaku said. “And we Uchiha know well its strength.” His eyes turned red, and he looked at his mother, at the person who had taught him that no one would ever love him, for he was not worthy of love, and never would be. “Next time, do not think to speak poorly of my wife. Do you understand?”

“My little weasel has grown fangs,” his mother said, snidely. “I’m almost proud.“

–

When Fugaku had been five, his mother had killed his father for his eyes. He’d pissed his pants and screamed and the scene is carved into his mind, even now, of his mother over his father’s corpse, telling him to be quiet.

“He was born for this,” she’d said. “He is glad to have fulfilled his duty. Are you not glad of it, too? Your father died to make you strong.”

That evening, she’d introduced him to his future wife, telling him, she was born for this, and Fugaku’s fragile little heart wondered, will I one day have to die for her, too?

–

When he was ten years old, Fugaku’s mother had made him take off his clothes, and inspected him. “Down here you’re like him,” she’d said. “You’ll fulfill your duty too, when the time comes.”

“What exactly is my duty?” he’d said, trying very hard not to cry, thinking of his father’s eye sockets, dripping blood into the tatami.

“If I need to tell it to you, then you’re far stupider than I thought,” she’d said. “Get dressed.”

That evening, he’d gone to Mikoto, and her eyes had turned red, and she’d screamed, and from that day forth he’d known, this time for sure, that his duty was to die for someone else’s benefit, because living like this was slowly but surely killing him.

–

“Your mother is insane,” Mikoto said. “Do you know she threatened Kushina?”

“She is still our Clan Head,” Fugaku said. “Please be careful with your words.”

“And I’m telling you she’s batshit crazy,” Mikoto said. “God. I hate her.” She paused. “Hey, Fugaku, do you love me?”

Fugaku looked at her, at this raven of a woman, who tittered and killed and loved a monster, and had been honest enough to tell him, _I will never love you, do you understand_?

“I will die for you,” Fugaku said, honestly.

“Then get rid of her,” Mikoto said, her eyes flashing red. “She’s a nuisance.”

Fugaku swallowed, convulsively, and thought of his mother over his father’s body, and the smell of his own piss, and his father’s empty eye sockets, staring unto nothing, his life extinguished because he had been born to die.

“Very well,” he said.

–

Becoming Head of the Uchiha Clan was a relief, in some ways, from the common drudgery of police work. It was odd to see others treat him as they had his mother, once, with reverence and respect. He took to it like a fish to water. Maybe his mother had never loved him. Maybe his wife never would, either. But the Clan could come to like him, if he did his best.

–

“Why have you never asked me for a son?” Mikoto asked one morning, over the breakfast newspaper.

He very carefully did not choke on his tea. “Would you like to have one?”

“Maybe,” she said, and then, “Kushina’s getting married.”

“Ah,” Fugaku said.

“That Namikaze made jonin and proposed,” she said, and switched gears again. “Some say you will be the Fourth Hokage. If it is offered to you, will you take it?”

“Would you like me to?” he said, carefully.

“Maybe,” Mikoto said. “Do you not have an opinion on the matter?”

“I have several,” Fugaku said, and sipped his tea. “But I won’t take it, if that’s what worries you.”

Mikoto blinked.

“Your Uzumaki-san wishes to be Hokage, does she not?” Fugaku said. “I would not get in the way of her dreams.”

Mikoto stared at him, transfixed, as if she had never seen him before.

“Unless, of course, you want me to,” he said. “Do you want me to?”

“I want to have a son,” she said, and so they did.

–

When Fugaku held the baby in his hands for the first time and looked into his sleepy black eyes, the first thing he thought was, _no one is born to love another_ , and, _love is a choice_ , but, for some strange, terrible, awful reason, he couldn’t find any love inside him left.

“Little weasel,” he said quietly, echoing his mother, and hated himself.

“That’s a cute name,” Kushina chirped, from Mikoto’s bedside. “Itachi-chan!”

“Itachi,” Mikoto said. “It is cute, isn’t it? Hand him over, Fugaku.”

Fugaku’s stomach did something complicated, and the roof of his mouth tasted like bile, and ash. “Of course,” he said stiffly, and gladly gave up the bundle.

–

Itachi looked an awful lot like Mikoto as a child. Fugaku hated it. But, if he was being honest, he probably would have hated it even more if Itachi looked like him.

–

Time would correct him: Itachi would grow up to look just like his grandmother.

–

“I wish to have another son,” Mikoto said, one evening.

“Oh? Let me guess,” Fugaku said mildly. “Uzumaki-san is going to have a child, too.”

Mikoto smiled. “They’ll be able to play together!”

Fugaku looked at that smile and couldn’t help but smile back. “All right,” he said.

–

Uzumaki Kushina suffered a miscarriage when Mikoto was two months pregnant. She cried like it had been her own child.

–

“Why did you take him on that mission?” Mikoto demanded. “Itachi’s been crying all evening!”

“He activated his sharingan,” Fugaku said. “It was an evening well spent.”

“He’s _four years old_!”

“I was five when I activated my sharingan,” Fugaku said. “So were you.”

Mikoto slapped him. “You were the reason for it, then,” she said coldly. “And you will not be the reason my children develop theirs, now.”

A little too late, Fugaku thought.

–

“What’s this cutie’s name?” Kushina said, her newly swollen belly just starting to show.

“Sasuke,” Mikoto said. “After Fugaku’s sensei’s sensei.”

“Ooh, I love it! Sasuke-chan!” Kushina lifted the baby up, and the baby wailed. “Ahh! He looks just like you when he’s upset, Fugaku-san!”

“Let me see!” Itachi said, uncharacteristically loud. “He’s MY little brother!”

Fugaku tentatively wondered if love was something you could learn to feel again.

–

Then Uzumaki Kushina died, and the Nine Tails flattened half of Konoha, and Mikoto pretty much lost her mind.

–

“They’re doing WHAT!” Mikoto howled. “We are NOT going anywhere!” Sasuke was screaming in Itachi’s arms, as the boy looked on, wide-eyed and silent.

“I’m working on it,” Fugaku said tightly.

“How dare they!” She yelled. “How dare they think we had anything to do with Kushina’s death! How DARE they tell us to leave our ancestral lands!”

“I’m working on it,” Fugaku repeated. “Please calm down, Mikoto. You’re frightening the children.”

She turned around, and her eyes were truly frightening. “I’m scaring them?” she whispered. “I’M scaring them?! You made my boy so scared of death he’s become a fucking PACIFIST!”

“Right,” Fugaku said. “Of course. Itachi, take your brother outside.”

“Father–”

“Take him outside!”

Itachi didn’t need to be told twice.

“Mikoto,” he said, very calmly. “I know how much she meant to you.”

Her laugh was decayed, and hollow, and quite horrid. “Do you?” she said.

“Oh yes,” Fugaku said. “I am well aware.” He did not touch her, or even come close to her. “None of us are to blame for her death,” he said. “But we can avenge her. By proving our innocence, and finding the real culprit–”

“The culprit is this wretched village,” Mikoto said. “This village killed her the moment it put that monster inside her, and shunned her, and forced her to kill in their name, and then let her die.”

“Be careful what you say next,” Fugaku said, very quietly.

“Fugaku,” Mikoto said, and her voice was quite level. “Do you still love me?”

Fugaku’s felt like the body of his mother was flattening his chest, like the body of his father was dragging him down, down.

“Mikoto,” he said weakly. “Don’t–don’t ask this of me.”

Her eyes were mesmerizing.

“Don’t you love me, Fugaku?”

–

He’d never stop loving her. It was the curse in his blood.

–

Mikoto and Fugaku quietly organized the rallies, fanning the flames of hatred. There were many that thought as Mikoto did, that the village was against them. Being forced to move from their homes to the outskirts of Konoha was just the tip of the iceberg, after the Nine Tail’s rampage and the Fourth Hokage’s death. They could feel the constant surveillance, the hushed whispers, the slow but sure eradication of Uchiha from any position of power.

“Father, father!”

It would take years of planning to perform the coup, but Fugaku was sure he could do it bloodlessly. He had once been a prime candidate for Fourth Hokage, and now he could win his way back to Fifth, if he played his cards right. Mikoto’s kaleidoscope eyes were telling him to burn the village, to wreck it, to destroy it, but Fugaku had spent years fighting his mother’s gaze, and he believed in the Will of Fire, he believed the Uchiha could make peace again, if only he–

“Father!”

“Not now, Sasuke!” Fugaku barked. He had a splitting migraine. What had he been thinking about again? Right, tonight’s rally…

“Come here, little brother,” Itachi said, and took a crying Sasuke into his arms, and left.

–

“I am so proud of you, Itachi!” Mikoto gently fixed the collar of his uniform. “My little ANBU.”

“Thank you, mother,” Itachi said.

“You’ve done well,” Fugaku said. No Uchiha had been given such an important position in years, and it was strategically imperative now, as their plan came together. To destroy – to win over – to fix…Fugaku’s mind was buzzing, boiling. Mikoto’s hand fell on his shoulder, and his mind cleared. “Yes,” he cleared his throat. “This is a great opportunity for the Uchiha clan.”

“Of course, father,” Itachi said, eyes downcast.

–

“Does my father hate me?” he overhead Sasuke say.

“No, my little raven,” Mikoto said. “Whyever would you think that?”

Sasuke’s voice was thick with tears. “Then why does he never praise me?”

There was silence for a second, and then, “He has a lot of responsibilities on his shoulders. But he loves you very much, Sasuke. In fact, did you know? When we are alone, all he ever does is praise you.”

“Really!?” Sasuke’s squeak would have been heartbreaking, if Fugaku had any heart to break.

That night, Mikoto came to him. “You should pay more attention to Sasuke,” she suggested.

“I cannot,” he said. “The next rally.” He had not slept in days. “It must. The Clan.”

Mikoto placed a hand on his arm. “Oh, Fugaku. What have I done to you.”

“I love you,” he said, helplessly.

“I know,” Mikoto said, pityingly. “Sleep.”

–

The next morning, Fugaku let Sasuke guide him to the bridge overlooking the Niwa lake. His son – how old was he now? – was so excited he nearly tripped twice.

“Father, father, look what I can do!” He took a deep breath and exhaled a small fireball.

“Huh,” Fugaku said. “How old are you now?”

“I’m six years old,” Sasuke said, bottom lip trembling.

“Itachi could perform that at four, I think,” Fugaku said, remembering. “Or was he three?” His memories were oddly shuffled, faces blurring. His head hurt a fair bit, the back of his eyes aching like someone had put a kunai through them.

“I-I-I’ll try again!” Sasuke said, His voice was too high, it made Fugaku’s migraine worse. The flare of his slightly larger fireball didn’t help things, either.

“Sorry. I’m going home,” Fugaku said. On the way back, he had to discreetly vomit into a bush.

–

“I can’t take it back,” Mikoto said. “I wish I could, but I can’t.”

Fugaku could hardly hear her through his fever. His whole body felt like it was sweating, like every bit of him was trying to escape being him, but he was completely dry. It was like he was stuck in an infinite genjutsu, his own mind making itself Uchiha soup. He choked through a laugh.

“But you mustn’t do this to Sasuke,” she continued. “He adores you, Fugaku. Are you listening?”

“I can’t hear anything else,” he said, and it wasn’t a lie. He couldn’t stop seeing Mikoto’s eyes, red, red, her voice saying, do you still love me Fugaku? Do you?

“This can’t go on,” Mikoto said. “Fugaku, look at me.”

Fugaku thought that if he did, he would die. But hadn’t he told himself he would die for her, all those years ago? _Face your end like a man_ , his mother’s voice echoed. _Will you not fulfill your duty_?

“Mikoto,” he said brokenly. “Please kill me.”

“I can’t,” she said. “Fugaku, I can’t. But I can make this better. Shh. Look into my eyes.”

–

“Sasuke.”

The boy stiffened, and looked up at him from behind his bangs. “Yes, father?”

“Have you been practicing?”

It was obvious from the scabbing of his lips, the first degree burns on his chin and cheeks. “Yes, sir,” Sasuke whispered.

“Very good,” he said, and it was like he’d poured gasoline on a dying fire, because Sasuke lit up like a blaze.

“Do you want to see!” He was trembling from excitement, but trying very hard not to show it.

“Hm,” Fugaku said. “I have to be somewhere today. But! How about tomorrow?”

“Yes! Tomorrow!” Sasuke squealed, and bowed deeply. “I’ll make you proud, father! I promise! I’ll keep practicing until then!”

Sasuke’s eyes were brimming with tears as he skipped away, overwhelmed with joy, and Fugaku wondered if he’d ever felt so deeply about anyone’s praise, if he’d ever allowed someone to possess so much power over him, and he remembered his mother’s eyes, and Mikoto’s, and he felt very nauseous, and his head hurt, sharp, piercing, and there was a noise like someone activating a scroll, or using a displacement technique, and his ears popped.

“Oh,” Fugaku said, nose bleeding, ears bleeding, eyes bleeding red. “Oh. My son. My baby boy.”

–

“Itachi,” Fugaku called. “I have not seen you in a while.”

Itachi was nearly as tall as him. How old was he, now? Fugaku’s clearest memory of Itachi was when he had been waist-height, wide-eyed, clutching at Fugaku’s kunai holster, staring at the carnage of the battlefield he and Fugaku had created. Now Itachi’s eyes were black, and sunken, and fixed over Fugaku’s shoulder like he was very carefully avoiding meeting his own.

“I have been busy,” Itachi said. His voice was so deep. Had his voice not been soft, and quiet? When had he changed this much?

“I imagined so,” Fugaku said. “Will you not come to our next clan meeting?”

“I cannot,” Itachi said.

“Is that so,” Fugaku said. “Come with me.”

“Father,” Itachi said, “I am–”

“Come with me.”

He led his boy-turned-man deep into the Naka shrine, where there were no leaves to overhear them. In the darkness he could hardly feel Itachi’s presence, which spoke to his prowess. How old was Itachi now? He couldn’t remember. He turned his eyes red to see in the dark.

Itachi briefly revealed he possessed the Mangekyou, too. “Shisui?” Fugaku opened, conversationally.

“Do not speak his name,” Itachi said, lowly.

“I don’t remember where I got mine, anymore,” Fugaku confessed. “I think your mother may have given it to me. Or was it my own?”

“You’ve gone mad,” Itachi said, quietly. “Haven’t you, father?”

Fugaku laughed, softly. “I don’t think I have ever been more sane.” He sobered. “Itachi, listen to me. The Uchiha Clan are planning on overtaking Konoha.”

Itachi did not look surprised.

“We’ve been planning this for a long time,” Fugaku continued. “So long I can’t remember. Itachi, believe me when I say I always meant for it to be bloodless.”

“Bloodless,” Itachi said tonelessly.

“This village has a long history of hatred against the Uchiha. We are feared by those above, and loathed by those below, and now hatred has consumed us all.”

“I can see that,” Itachi said. “I don’t even need these eyes to tell you that.”

Fugaku remembered hating Itachi’s little eyes, his little fingers, the face that looked so much like Mikoto’s, that now, sunken and exhausted and bitter, looked too much like his mother’s. He was a horrible father, he knew.

“Your mother used her Mangekyou on me,” Fugaku confessed. “After the Uzumaki’s death. I haven’t been myself, since then.”

“Are you blaming my mother for this?” Itachi said, very coldly. “For all of this?”

“No,” Fugaku said. “I love her. I have always loved her. This transcends her, transcends us all. But the fire has started burning out of control.” He lowered his head, and bowed, bowed all the way to the ground. “Itachi, forgive your parents. Forgive your Clan. We can stop this, if we work together.”

Itachi’s eyes were barren. “It’s too late,” he croaked.

–

“Do you hate me?” Mikoto said, as they heard the screams of their clansmen in the distance. Her eyes were two deserts, devoid of life. “For what I did to you, and everyone.”

“I’m very tired of hatred,” Fugaku said. “I imagine you are, too.”

“Do you think I’ll see Kushina there, in the Pure Lands?” Mikoto said, and began to cry.

Fugaku closed his eyes, and his heart, and thought, I was born for this. I was born for this.

“Take care of your brother,” Fugaku said, to the shadow in the hallway, and gently exposed his neck.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
